Not the usual roleplaying you do in interviews

Pretty excited about the very idea of being a professional DM, even as a once a week side hustle. Astounded that the pay, when busy, exceeds my day job, and even when you're just sitting there you get more than minimum wage for your time. I've been gaming since the first edition of Dungeons & Dragons, always as the Dungeon Master. I carry dice in my pocket everywhere I go, and if I'm not specifically doing something else, I'm probably thinking about some campaign idea.

Like the typical D&D opening, I walk into the tavern themed game store and ask to talk to the owner. The barkeep, if you will, is in plain clothes and speaks plainly with the same glum tones you might expect of any retail worker, but she's helpful. The owner, however, wears a tunic and a necklace with a dragon, his hair shaved on the sides and back and pulled into a tail in a sort of Viking style. We've been sending messages and he just wanted a quick chat.

His store is doing great, in fact he's expanding and he needs more DM's. We talk shop, both of us are clearly well versed in the craft. I admire the shelves of miniatures and books that are free to use while in store. The fire burning in the TV, the fake but soft furs draped on the furniture. It's obviously all been done on a small budget, but damn if it isn't just enough to get you there. It's agreed I should come back next week and just run a campaign.

"If they have fun, you're in", he says. I appreciate that though he chose an eccentric flavor for his business, he truly was a businessman and he took his role seriously. I would do my very best to prepare for my next 'interview'. We shake hands and I thank the barkeep on the way out. She says goodbye in the same somber tone she welcomed me with.

Though there was some interest in branching out eventually, for the time being, their shop was 5th Edition, which I only recently picked up specifically for this opportunity. Truthfully, I became tired of looking up rules and over many years eventually just started winging everything. To run things by the book, I would have to be more specific than just "Well, you're good at tracking, roll at least a +1". It would be a Skill Check against the Survival Skill at a DC of, say, 11. I would need to understand that the skill would gain bonuses from Wisdom and Proficiency. Maybe they would have an ability that gave them "advantage", which was a specific thing.

I studied like an ambitious apprentice that was supposed to be sweeping the floors. Any spare moment I had and a few I didn't really have, I was reading. I started with the DMG, but figured out I should have started with the PHB. I read about the Angry GM and any other article my phone thought I might be interested in. I still hadn't watched a game stream, but it was on my To Do List. I asked my friends to help me prepare for an interview, and they were happy to oblige.

I've been blessed with excellent players through the years. They take initiative (and I don't just mean their turn in combat), they use their skills effectively, and they roleplay convincingly. When I'm gaming with them, I'm there, galloping beside them on a horse under a starlit night, chasing a thief with a dangerous scroll. I'm the humble farmer that feels guilty about taking money to keep quiet and then spilling the beans anyway, and I'm that poor last Drow kneeling alone by his fallen comrads begging to be spared, knowing the best he can hope for is to return home as an empty-handed failure. Our simple adventure wraps up satisfactorily in 2 hours.

They complain that the mechanical nature of skill checks, figuring out which one to use and what was the proper way to roll for it, was jarring and the rules were needlessly limiting. One of my friend says I ruined D&D for him. I'm naturally flattered. No other notes, though. I killed it. Surely I'd passed my own skill check (Performance) with my friends, could I do the same with a stranger?

I didn't get a quick response from the tavern owner about what kind of game to prepare for. All I knew was that I would be DM-ing for one of his staff. I met a few them already: another barkeep who dressed and spoke in character, one of the hired DM's who was short and stocky with a big beard (I swear I'm not making this up), and from a few tables over, another DM that really got into his craft with voice acting and emphatic motions. I just hoped I wouldn't be stuck with the bored barkeep. Also, I started preparing my own campaign but then the day before was asked to pick from three existing campaigns.

This is all getting pretty wordy isn't it? But this is the part I really wanted to rant about. I thought nerves were going to get the best of me: I can perform well, even under pressure, right up to the point where you tell me I'm either going to pass or fail. I start to sweat, my mind goes blank, I stutter, and I sure as hell can't be the creative whirlwind I usually am. I prepare as much as I can, stealing a little bit of time on the clock at work too. I need every advantage I can get. I can feel the adrenaline in my arms, my legs, my back. My body is ready for a wrong damn thing, it thinks I'm going into battle or something. I don't need spring loaded muscles, I need a sharp mind! But that's not where the blood is going.

I bring my book, my dice, my battle grid, my laptop, and of course my phone. I walk with deliberate calm and enter the tavern.

The owner greets me first. We chat very briefly, but I'm really eager to get started. He introduces my player: bored barkeep #1. We'll call her by the character's name: Nat. I try to ease into conversation, I'm still dealing with my nervousness and hoping a little chitchat will help me ease up and also prepare for the game. I ask her if she has any experience and actually she has quite a bit. She still hasn't smiled, but that's fine. Nat produces a fresh character sheet, prepared for her at level 3. She isn't familiar with her spells, she doesn't know what god her cleric worships, but sometimes it's just best to just get started and figure out the rest on the way.

My fears flee like shadows at dawn. I'm in the flow, narrating, roleplaying, foreshadowing, calling for dice rolls when I feels it's necessary using my best judgement. The adventure module calls for a comic relief character who is enthusiastically incompetent, knocking over his drink at their first meeting, discovered sleeping in a pig pen in the morning, introducing his crew by their wrong names, and generally making a mess of things. His mistakes led to food poisoning from an innocent looking mushroom, horses taking off without their wagon, and drawing a pan as a weapon rather than the sword on his belt. My ratio of laughs to yawns ends at 0:2.

Nat is actually a capable player with the somewhat rare talent for caring about NPC's as well, but I don't think I've seen her smile even once to date. I could tell I wasn't reaching her, especially when we came to the Big Bad End Guy revealing herself and no sooner than that, she said it had been two hours and she would like to wrap things up. She stated that this was work for her and she was entitled to a food break.

I was not heartbroken at this point. I did my best under difficult circumstances. I knew she didn't have much fun, but surely she could judge my performance on its merits. I introduced colorful characters, I demonstrated an understanding of the core rules (perhaps not a fluidly as a regular, but adequately under the circumstances), I gave her several difficult decision points, like whether to accept refugees into the group when everyone else said it would be bad luck, or whether to face a magical foe ahead of you or a band of bandits behind you. I felt good about my performance.

But you already know where this story goes. I was given a very nicely written rejection email. I was told I didn't have to be the legendary Matt Mercer, but I should have more engaging characters and give the player more opportunities to roll their dice and make more decisions. I could try again in the summer.

There is a saying that goes something like "All endings are happy. If it isn't happy, then it isn't an ending." I'm still dealing with the rejection, and this post is mostly about that process. My response matched his diplomacy. I accepted his feedback graciously and expressed my interest in trying again as soon as he felt it had been an acceptable amount of time. In the mean time, I will continue to improve my craft... I've never had any objections to that! I'll get around to checking out Critical Role, since he mentioned Matt Mercer several times already. And yes, he will see me again in the summer, if not sooner. This is just Chapter One.